


A change of plan

by laurel_raatko_lance



Series: Love was made for me and you [3]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/F, Shameless Smut, Transgender Laurel Lance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-04 19:40:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20476439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laurel_raatko_lance/pseuds/laurel_raatko_lance
Summary: “What are you waiting for? An invitation?” Nyssa huffs in irritation.Laurel snorts amusedly, "What happened to 'patience is a virtue Laurel'?" she slips her hand into her wife's soft cotton panties, pushing dark hair out of the way and finding her clit with skilled fingers.





	A change of plan

**Author's Note:**

> set about a year and a half before part 1, not relevant to the plot, just pure smut

They’re in the kitchen. Nyssa is wearing only her underwear and an old college sweatshirt from Laurel. Her hair up in a messy bun, a few strands falling out of it as if she’d just woken up and hadn’t taken a look at it yet, which is probably the case.

She intends to make some tea for herself and her wife, so she reaches up to get two mugs from a high up shelf, exposing her barely covered behind in the process.

Laurel feels something stirring in her shorts as she looks at the view in front of her. 

It’s not exactly how she saw her morning going, but she has to admit,_ it would be quite nice to do what’s running through her mind right now,_ she thinks as she walks over to stand behind her beautiful wife.

The corner of Nyssa’s mouth twitches upward when she feels a pair of hands on her hips and soft warm lips kissing the back of her neck. The hands wander higher, fingertips dancing across her skin, pushing her sweatshirt up as they go. 

The lips are on her earlobe now.

“May i?” Laurel inquires in a raspy whisper, and Nyssa shivers, placing the mugs down and pushing them aside.

“Always.”

Behind her, Laurel steps a little closer when her wandering hands seem to have reached their target and settle on her breasts comfortably.

Nyssa feels her wife’s body pressing solidly against her back and leans further into it. She also feels a growing bulge pushing up against her butt cheek when Laurel massages her rapidly hardening nipples with the the pads of her thumbs.

_Oh, she likes where this is heading._ Rolling her pelvis backward, she smirks as Laurel gasps sharply in response.

She braces herself against the counter in front of her and grinds her butt against the straining fabric of Laurel’s shorts, enjoying the low moan that sounds right next to her ear.

_Yes. This is going to be a great morning._ She thinks as she feels teeth starting to nibble on the soft skin of her neck.

One of Laurel’s hands leaves its place to wander down her torso, pausing at her waistband.

“What are you waiting for? An invitation?” Nyssa huffs in irritation.

Laurel snorts amusedly, "What happened to _'patience is a virtue Laurel'_?" she slips her hand into her wife's soft cotton panties, pushing dark hair out of the way and finding her clit with skilled fingers.

Nyssa’s grip on the counter tightens when Laurel’s fingers start rubbing at her sensitive flesh. _"Forget patience."_

Laurel dips her fingertips into the slick heat and slides her fingers back and forth through Nyssa’s folds, her increasing wetness easing the movements. She continues in the same rhythm for a while, until Nyssa’s squirming becomes more prominent.

She adds a healthy amount of pressure and slows the rubbing down considerably, rolling the swollen nub between her fingers next and watching Nyssa throw her head back in pleasure, mouth open in a silent scream.

She resumes kissing her wife’s now exposed neck, her shorts painfully tight at this point. 

Ceasing the nipple massage, she takes her other hand off of Nyssa’s breast, and reaches down, pushing at her own shorts until they’re lying at her feet. Stepping out of them, she sighs against Nyssa’s neck in relief.

She then also removes the hand that’s massaging Nyssa’s mound, smirking at the displeased whimper it causes.

_“Laurel!”_ Nyssa curses.

Laurel ignores her, hooks her thumb under the elastic of her panties and pushes them aside just enough to uncover Nyssa’s ass. She groans, her cock twitching in anticipation.

“Lean forward” she whispers into Nyssa’s ear, and her command is met with no resistance. She spreads Nyssa’s cheeks with sticky fingers and finds her entrance. Using one hand to part her folds and the other to adjust herself into the right position and angle, she eases her now throbbing erection into the slick heat gently.

Nyssa screws her eyes shut tightly, mouth opening wider and wider in a continuous gasp for air as Laurel pushes forward. The moment she stops moving, Nyssa exhales slowly, letting out a strangled sound at the fullness of the length inside of her and takes a few deep, steadying breaths.

_“God…”_ bracing herself by holding onto Nyssa’s hips, Laurel stills for a moment, letting her wife adjust to the intrusion. Her walls are warm and wet and delightfully tight around her. It feels heavenly.

“Now, would you _please_ put your hand back?” Nyssa demands needily, still leaning on the kitchen counter, forearms and hands now flat against the cold surface.

“Right, sorry.” Laurel slides her hand back down, ghosting her fingertips lightly over Nyssa’s swollen mound, then caressing the skin down to the inside of her thigh.

“Quit being a tease.” Nyssa complains.

Laurel chuckles, bringing her hand back up to continue her previous ministrations more vigorously than before. She circles the tips of her fingers around Nyssa’s clit, not quite touching it yet.

She shifts her pelvis backward, pulling almost all the way out before pushing back inside almost agonisingly slowly.

Nyssa bites her lip to hold back a moan, closing her eyes again, this time in satisfaction at the feeling of Laurel filling her up. Feeling bold, she pushes back hard into Laurel’s next stroke.

_"Oh... Nyssa..”_ she groans, her eyes nearly rolling into the back of her head as white hot pleasure surges through her for a second.

When she recovers from the momentary shock, Laurel gently starts stroking the sensitive nub between her wife’s legs through its hood. She’s trying to delay Nyssa’s climax by going slow on her, so they would come together.

She begins thrusting forward with a little more vigour.

When she feels Nyssa’s walls clenching dangerously tight around her, she removes her fingers from the bundle of nerves to run them through damp pubic hair instead, before dragging the flat of her palm upward and caressing the soft skin of her belly. Nyssa was on the verge of orgasming.

She whimpers at the sudden loss of contact.

_“..Faster!”_ Laurel started hitting her G-spot at just the right angle about three strokes ago. If she couldn’t get her release by having her clit rubbed, then she would hopefully achieve it through other means.

Laurel obeys. Grunting as she thrusts her hips forward faster and faster. 

She’s getting close herself, and Nyssa is so wonderfully wet and warm, she knows it won’t take much to push her over the edge.

She hangs on a couple of minutes longer, trying to draw this out as long as possible. Her hands find their way to Nyssa’s waist again, fingers digging into her hipbone as she keeps pounding into her.

Nyssa still hadn’t been able to reach her orgasm. Penetration only did so much for her, Laurel knows that, which is why she uses her hands and mouth on her as often as she can.

She’d started muttering what were presumably profanities in Arabic a little while ago.

_Oh yes._ That totally does it for Laurel. She has no idea what her wife is saying, but Nyssa being so far gone that she loses her ability to speak English is a major turn-on in her eyes.

Nyssa gasps in surprise when Laurel starts stroking her over-sensitive clit again, this time in direct contact. Inner muscles clenching down on Laurel’s shaft in shock, her hips jerk forward reflexively, making her wife moan pleasurably in the process.

Writhing and whining in her grasp, trying to get away from nimble fingers, she twists and turns and rocks her body with abandon. She can’t get off like this, and Laurel knows it. The pressure was too intense to be completely comfortable, but her wife enjoys teasing her every now and then.

At some point, she doesn’t know when, her panties slid all the way down her legs. They are currently hanging loosely around her right ankle.

She shouts something in Arabic, and Laurel seems to understand, because she stops what she’s doing and starts stroking her over her hood again, applying pressure, she pushes her hand downward very slowly, sliding against the bundle of nerves pleasurably along the way and dragging it back up with the same sinful slowness. 

_Much better._

But then the pressure disappears again, and Nyssa seriously considers just replacing it with her own damn hand and finishing the job herself. 

Her eyes widen when the fingers suddenly come back wet with spit. 

Laurel rubs her wet fingers over Nyssa’s centre with the same speed and rhythm she’s currently using to thrust into her.

And Nyssa lets out a loud, blissful moan when her orgasm hits her. Finally. Her legs are shaking and her walls are contracting around Laurel violently.

Laurel rocks back and forth one final time before the fluttering around her stiff, aching member became too much to endure.

“…Oh.. _fuck!”_ buried deep inside Nyssa, she finds her own release.

When she comes down from her high, she pulls out her now limp, soft cock and takes a step back. Still breathing hard, her face flushed and sweaty, she lets out a breathless laugh “...you alright there Nyssa?”

Nyssa turns around weakly, fire in her eyes, affronted that her wife would even suggest she couldn’t handle their love-making. Standing up and pushing herself off the counter she’s about to give her a piece of her mind, but then her legs buckle and give out under her, proving Laurel's point.

Laurel catches her in her arms before she falls. 

Closing her eyes, she swallows her pride and sighs. When she opens them again, she sees her wife giving her a cocky grin and Nyssa raises an eyebrow at her. 

Laurel leans in for a sloppy kiss, which Nyssa is all too happy to return. At least that would divert her attention away from her embarrassment.


End file.
